Elysium
by eurekaa
Summary: Yuki Makoto has some dreams about his long-lost twin sister, the dorm gets a makeover, the world is playing on maniac mode, and since when did Shadows have a sense of humor? A modified P3P version of The Answer, minus stupid plot and ridiculous dungeons. Slightly AU. Makoto- and Minako-centric, lots of pairings, lots of social links, and hopefully we get a GOOD ending this time.
1. Author's Note

Yeah I know, author's notes aren't fun, but I kind of want this to make sense. Kind of. It's my first fic; I honestly don't know what I'm doing.

If it wasn't clear enough, this fic contains spoilers for P3FES as well as P3P.

So this is a dumb plot idea that resulted from me liking some aspects of The Answer and not liking others, and deciding to throw my hands in the air and rewrite an alternate, P3P version. Fun!

This fic is slightly AU, since there are changes to the P3P story, as well as complete disregard for canon after the events of March 5th.

The main points you'll need to know going into this fic are one, it's set in 2010; two, the main character is Yuki Makoto; three, both Shinjiro and Chidori are alive (but not so well); and four, Minako's in a coma, rather than dead. What is it with this game and comas (and dead people) anyway?

Again, this is my first fic, so feedback/constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated. Please help I am but a small child.

This fic is currently rated T for language, mild violence, dark themes, and suggestive themes. It might change rating later, if I find any content to be potentially triggering and/or something else.

I own nothing; P3, P3FES, P3P, and all content therein are property of Atlus. I guess it would be faster to say that the Persona series is theirs, and in no way do I profit from this work, be it monetary or otherwise.

Yeah we'll get on with it now.


	2. Prologue: Brand New Days

The first thing he noticed was the sound of a piano.

The notes of the simple melody echoed in the room, melancholy yet hopeful.

The second thing he noticed was the comfortable confines of his seat. He cracked an eye open, spying dark leather compress under his weight. It was large, enough that he felt like a child again, his shoes barely scraping the floor. The armrests were cool to the touch, easing the dryness that his body always seemed to suffer from.

His gaze went beyond that of himself, and the dimensions of the room slowly melded into being.

It was long and narrow, like some sort of hall. To his right, floor-to-ceiling windows let the light from the yellow-green moon cast shapes on the floor, revealing a somber floral pattern. The sky was a deep emerald.

His eyes strained to locate where the sound of the piano was coming from. He lifted his head, and realized it must be behind him.

Rising slowly, he took careful, quiet steps around the lounger, eyes falling on what he expected.

A large, grand piano was seated on the other end of the narrow room, light from the moon making the surface glisten. On the piano bench, a girl sat—short, brunette hair hung around her neck and shoulders, and try as he might, the hue only reminded him of something dead.

She was clothed in a long-sleeve black dress, the hem of the fabric swaying around her calves. Her flats silently worked the pedals.

Her head lifted slightly. "Hey." Her voice was familiar yet foreign at the same time. He tried to come closer, but found that he couldn't move his feet.

She continued to play, feather-light strokes on the keys, fingers like hummingbirds.

"I'm sorry for not remembering sooner." She began, and he noticed the slightest tremor race down her spine. "Even if I did, though, it wouldn't have made much of a difference."

"I know you." He breathed, so quietly that he'd hardly heard himself. She nodded though, as if she'd understood.

"And I know you, too." There was a smile in her voice, and the tension in his shoulders relaxed. "You've been made to suffer a lot these past eleven years, haven't you?"

Any and all words died on his tongue.

"I couldn't do anything back then to stop it, but now…" Her fingers stalled on the keys, and the edges of the room began to blur. "Now I have the power to fix things."

She stood up, fingers still tracing the surface of the piano.

Again he tried to speak, but his voice refused to work.

Her head turned towards him oh-so slightly, and he caught a flash of silvery pins, shaped in the Roman numeral XXII. "Go to Iwatodai. Look for me. There, you can find your answer. And…" She lifted a hand, and in its palm he saw a golden butterfly. It flew up into the air, towards him, wings flapping lazily. It alighted on his finger, which he hadn't realized he'd lifted.

The walls were beginning to blend together, solid becoming liquid, piano and chair losing their shape.

"I'll give you my power. You'll need it—it'll protect you."

Finally, he managed to croak out a noise. "Why are you—"

"I'm sorry, we're out of time." The girl stepped away from him, turning more so that he could see her cheek. At this point, everything besides her had spun together into a sickly mixture of green and yellow and red. Vertigo was warping his senses. "From now on, you're going to face even more hardship, but I know you'll be able to pull through. Take this opportunity—live these brand new days. And… take care of them. I leave them in your hands."

He reached out, the butterfly having disappeared, darkness nipping at his heels and trying to pull him back and away. "Wait, you—"

She turned fully to him, red eyes dull with exhaustion. He knew this face. "I'm counting on you. Don't let me down."

The color vanished suddenly, leaving him falling in black.

* * *

><p>So this was really short.<p>

Obvious cameo is obvious, clichéd prologue is clichéd, yes. I'll be attempting to name all of the chapters after songs from the P3 and P3P soundtracks, since I'm unoriginal and can't think of anything else. I'm going to start sounding like a broken record, but reviews! Please! Yes! Reviews equals constructive criticism equals motivation boost equals progress! And isn't that what we all want in the end.


	3. Chapter 1: Burn My Dread

Iwatodai was a sea of gray, rising and falling, and crashing against the blue of the actual ocean.

So it was basically more of the same. He jacked up the volume on his MP3, and closed his eyes.

The sun shone against his eyelids, dyeing his vision a deep orange. The shadows cast by the edges of the windows cooled his face a marginal amount; he was grateful for it, as he was still not used to intense sunlight.

Within the past month, he'd tanned more than he had the whole of his life. He was still significantly paler than the other passengers of the monorail, though.

_"The next stop is Port Island. Port Island. This is the final stop. Please prepare to disembark."_

As his eyes fluttered open, he could've sworn he saw a butterfly scrambling to keep up with the train.

But then it was gone, the monorail grinding to a halt in Tatsumi Port Island Station.

He shambled out along with the other passengers, reaching into his pocket for the map of Iwatodai he'd received in the mail. He could see the school from here, cherry blossoms dancing in the gale like a scene from a movie. The sun was bright and high in the sky, staining everything a cheerful eggshell white.

He liked white.

Satisfied, he followed the directions on his map to the Gekkoukan Boys' Dorm. The sea breeze urged him to sneeze every now and then; something he would have to get used to.

The dorm manager received him, and not before long, he had his own room. The manager said his luggage would arrive tomorrow, and with that left him alone.

Makoto sat down at the desk, the wooden chair creaking under his weight. While the room was smaller and darker than what he was used to, he could adapt.

He set his bag on the desktop, pulling out everything he'd brought with him. Toiletries, electronics, spare clothes…

And a few snacks, of course.

After munching on his third package of rice crackers, he decided to explore the man-made island a little more. After all, it was still relatively early in the day.

His eyes stung as he stepped outside, and he shielded them with a hand while he waited for them to adjust. The sun was beginning to sink now, the whites tinted yellow, shadows growing longer. The weather was mild, allowing him to keep on the jacket he had over his t-shirt.

He walked to the gates of the school, still taken aback by the sheer scale of the compound.

He'd heard it was a prestigious academy with excellent sports, liberal, and arts programs. There was no requirement for local students, but those from out of town needed to apply for the scholarship program, which required near-flawless grades.

Which was something he _could _manage, and _did_.

While the school was definitely a factor in his sudden decision to move here, it was not his main motivation.

Rather, that dream—

He brushed shoulders with someone, and nearly jumped when he turned.

Someone was staring at him.

She seemed like a foreigner, judging by the blue eyes and white-blonde hair. The headphones—or, what he assumed to be headphones—on her head seemed rigid and uncomfortable, though had an interesting design. She was wearing a white blouse, cardigan, and skirt. If he could take a guess, she seemed to be around his age, and therefore a high school student.

Neither of them initiated conversation, scrutinizing each other. Makoto didn't consider himself very social, and so was relieved when she finally began to speak.

"Ah, I apologize for staring. You are… a student?"

He nodded.

"I don't recognize you."

"I'm a transfer student."

She dipped her head once. "I compre—erm, I see." She made a noise that vaguely passed for a cough, lifting a gloved hand to her face. "Well then." With that, she ran her hands down her skirt to smooth out imaginary wrinkles, turned, and left.

Makoto returned to the dorm.

* * *

><p>Uh. Hurray for obvious cameos?<p>

Yeah I have no idea. I'll just stick to begging for reviews.


	4. Chapter 2: Want to Be Close

Makoto stepped into the faculty office, sporting a blank face as he scanned the seats for any remaining teachers.

"Ah, you must be the transfer student." A feminine voice called. Makoto turned his head, giving a sharp nod to the young woman that approached him.

Her hair was cut in a stylish bob, accentuating her angled face and the rimless glasses perched on her nose. She was dressed modestly, in a blouse and pencil skirt. She looked more like an OL than a teacher.

"Oh, pardon me." She slid the glasses off and stowed them into her pocket, giving him a wry smile. "My eyes are bad—I need those for reading. Now then, your name was Yuki Makoto-kun, right? I'm Kawazu Makiko, your homeroom teacher. I apologize in advance if I make any slip-ups; this is my first year teaching."

Makoto was pleased that the woman liked to ramble, since he wasn't much one for conversation. "Nice to meet you." He said plainly, giving a slight dip of the head.

"Hee hee! No need to be so polite, Yuki-kun. We're both strangers to the school, so if you ever feel like talking, just come to me!" With a wink, she led him out of the faculty office and into the spacious hall, her heels clicking on the tile floor. "There's going to be an assembly before homeroom. Come on, I'll show you the way!"

Makoto followed mutely, letting his eyes drag across the sun-dyed corridor. It was large, bright, and white—it reminded him of the hospital, and he felt himself relax.

Within the first five minutes of the assembly, Makoto found himself tempted to pull out his headphones and take a nap. A few students around him were whispering, heads bowed so as to not attract attention. He unwillingly found himself catching snatches of the conversation.

"Hey, didya hear? There's a new transfer student."

"Really? _Again_? Is it a boy or a girl?"

"It's a boy—a senior. I heard he's really cute. Gives off a mysterious vibe, y'know?"

"Oh no, he totally sounds like my type~!"

Makoto frowned, and blocked out the gossip with his music.

Ms. Kawazu was a very carefree, outspoken young lady, earning the adoration of her male students within the first hour of class. The girls were still warming up to her, but he spied no dislike among the faces of his peers.

Homeroom ended swiftly, Makoto sluggishly putting his books in his bag. His property would probably be at the boys' dorm by now, but he wanted to scope out what all Iwatodai had to offer in terms of eateries.

Before he could pursue this line of thinking, a hand clamped down on his shoulder. "Hey there!" A cheery, masculine voice greeted.

Makoto lifted his head to catch a glimpse of his captor.

The cap-sporting teen looked down at him with a lopsided grin, gray eyes full of mirth. "Your name's Makoto-kun, right? I'm Iori Junpei. Nice to meet ya!"

Makoto blinked a few times before responding. "What do you want?"

The boy visibly flinched, though it was wholly comical. "Ouch, so harsh! I was only tryin' to be nice! I mean, no one else seemed like they were gonna talk to ya."

Makoto considered this. It was true that he didn't give off the friendliest of atmospheres.

"J-Junpei-kun!" Came a hesitant chirp from behind. The two boys turned their heads.

It was a girl; she was small and pale-skinned, large emerald eyes threatening to swallow the upper half of her face. Her lips were pursed and her eyebrows close together, obviously belying hesitance. She lifted a hand to her chest, the other pulling lightly at her skirt.

Makoto was of the opinion she might shatter if he spoke too loudly.

"Oh, Fuuka-chan! C'mere and greet the new kid!" Junpei called, giving Makoto a few pats for emphasis.

The girl, now dubbed Fuuka, gave a squeak. She seemed wary of him, for which Makoto couldn't blame her, and therefore didn't. Deciding to make the whole event easier for everyone, he stood up and out of his seat before dipping his head. "Yuki Makoto. Nice to meet you."

Fuuka mimicked this, albeit with a little less grace. "Y-Yamagishi Fuuka. Same to you." She quickly drew away, visibly relaxing the more distance she put between them. "A-Anyway, Junpei-kun, Mitsuru-senpai wanted all of us to meet in the lounge later today. I-I thought you should know."

Junpei gave the shy girl a smile. "Alrighty, Fuuka-chan! Thanks for telling me!"

She nodded and scurried off, vaguely reminding Makoto of a mouse.

Alone again, Junpei looked down at the dark-haired boy's face, as he was a few centimeters taller. "So, Makoto-kun, have you been to Hagakure yet?"

After cleaning off his fourth bowl, Makoto decided that he'd done enough damage to his wallet. He took a long draught from his water before he registered Junpei's gaze on him. He turned his head slightly.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing! Sorry, I didn't mean to stare. Man, you have some stomach, don't you? I've only seen one other person pack away so much so fast…" He trailed off, and even the socially inept Makoto could sense a tinge of melancholy in his voice. He decided to leave the subject untouched.

"Any other restaurants in the area?" He asked, though it lacked the usual lilt of an inquiry, sounding more like a statement. It took Junpei a moment to register that he'd uttered a question.

"Um, there's Wakatsu a few doors down, then on the main floor there's a beef bowl place, Octopia, and Wild Duck Burger. Oh, there's also a sweets shop, though I dunno if you'd be into that. Over at Paulownia Mall, there's a café. And… I think that's about it."

Makoto hummed in understanding, placing a few bills on the counter before sliding off of his stool. "Thanks for showing me around." He muttered.

Junpei hastily joined him. "What, you headin' back already? Well, I guess it is getting a bit late… Oh, _shit!_ I have to get back to the dorm!" The teen pulled out his phone as he charged out of the ramen joint, waving erratically at Makoto. "See ya later, man!" And with that, he was gone.

Makoto sighed, and headed back to the boys' dorm.

* * *

><p>I vaguely remember Junpei mentioning there were going to be three new teachers at the end of P3. No? Well then.<p>

Why is Fuuka so skittish all of a sudden, you ask? PLOT. Sort of.

Ha ha. Is it obvious I struggled a little with Fuuka? Because I did. It was an arduous process that will need oodles of improvement and reviews! Yes? Yes. And speaking of reviews, I'm having this uber huge internal debate on original characters because let's be honest, we're not here for that. At the same time, though, this isn't a novelization of The Answer. There won't be any huge additions, since this is still very Makoto- and Minako-centric, but. I've already broken the taboo with Miss New Teacher, so what do you think? Are you okay with a few new names in the background? TELL ME? :D


	5. Chapter 3: This Strange Sensation

Junpei was strangely motivated to act as a buffer between Makoto and the rest of the class, inviting him out to eat, taking him to the arcade, and generally being a busybody. Not that he minded; it was better than keeping to himself, and while he enjoyed his alone time, being around other people was a pleasant change.

The first week of school passed without incident. Makoto acquainted himself with every restaurant in the city, he unpacked and organized his dorm room, and Junpei introduced him to his friends.

Fuuka, while hesitant and something of a wallflower, turned out to be very considerate and motivated. She told him she was starting a technology club, and that he was free to join if he wanted to. She was also in the cooking club, though he'd received not-so-subtle hints from Junpei that he best keep far away from anything the soft-spoken girl cooked.

He met Aigis, who turned out to be the blonde he'd run into when he'd first moved to Iwatodai. Junpei explained that she was a foreigner, and had an odd sense of humor, and asked that he excuse anything she said that seemed off. As it turned out, she wasn't very talkative, and tended to space out alarmingly often, donning a melancholy, far-away look whenever she wasn't actively involved in conversation.

Yukari was the senior captain of the archery club, and obviously good friends with Junpei. Their banter, while often scathing and sometimes downright vicious, was offset by their concern and compassion for one another. She was wary of Makoto at first, but after learning that his main hobbies were eating and sleeping, she seemed to accept him as something of a background fixture.

One thing he noticed, though, was that something was definitely dampening their moods.

Junpei was cheerful enough, though there seemed to be a permanent downward curve at the side of his mouth, as well as dark shadows under his eyes. Similar symptoms could be found in the girls, but most notably Aigis.

It was the second week when things started to go wrong.

A student from the neighboring class, Tomochika Kenji, had caught him in the hall before school started. "Hey, you're Yuki-kun right? The transfer student?"

Makoto gave sleepy nod.

"Anyone told you about the curse yet?"

This piqued his interest. He inquired after it, Kenji apparently glad to have the chance to elaborate. "So last year, there were three transfer students. One of them was Aigis-chan—you know her, right? There was her, another girl, and a guy. The first girl transferred at the beginning of the school year, kinda like you. She got famous real fast; she has a fan club and everything. Aigis-chan transferred in a little while after, then in the winter a guy named Mochizuki came. All three of 'em were pretty well known around the school. But a little bit after he'd transferred in, Mochizuki disappeared. The school apparently got a notice about it, but there was this huge controversy that he might've run off and eloped or something, since it was so sudden and all. Then, on the day of graduation, the other girl—Minako-chan—fell into a coma."

For one jarring moment, Makoto's thoughts grinded to a halt. _Minako-chan_… While it was the same name, it wasn't anything definitive. But he'd definitely have to investigate this. He filed the information away for later.

"…Hasn't woken up. I've heard some people say she was acting a bit weird the last month of school, but people are starting to think there's a curse on transfer students. Nothing's happened to Aigis-chan yet, but she's been really down in the dumps lately."

Having recovered from his earlier shock, Makoto hummed in understanding. He realized why Junpei had acted overly protective of him now; he'd noticed some of their classmates talking about him, but hadn't thought anything of it. Perhaps Junpei didn't want him to hear about the curse—or worry about it.

Kenji gave a soft snort before setting his hands on his hips. "Anyway, it's just a rumor. I wouldn't put too much stock in it, but it is interesting to consider. If anything happens to Aigis-chan, though… I dunno. Sorry for bogging you down like that. I didn't mean to scare ya."

"It's fine." A suspicion was eating at him though, and he decided to relent. "Was Minako-san friends with Iori?"

Kenji raised an eyebrow. "Funny you ask. They were best buds. There were even some rumors goin' around that they were dating. None of it was true, but you get the idea."

Makoto nodded as the bell rang. He and Kenji parted ways and headed to class.

* * *

><p>It seems ridiculously short chapters are going to be a thing. Well, at least as long as I update consistently. Which most likely isn't going to last.<p>

Don't worry, we're gonna get the ball rolling soon. The next chapter will feature _actual interactions _(and a decent length), rather than... whatever this was. After all, who cares about Kenji? I just needed a good rumormonger. Wink wink.

Okay I'll stop now. Again, reviews! I already have the majority of the pairings selected, but who knows? Make a good enough argument, and you might sway me. Or you could ask to see more of a specific character. Or whether or not you're okay with original characters. Or whether or not this Makoto is a good Makoto. FEEDBACK.


	6. Chapter 4: Troubled

Ms. Kawazu dismissed homeroom much more cheerily than what was warranted for a Thursday, but you had to give the woman credit; anyone that could skip around so enthusiastically in heels and still keep a tight reign on a senior class warranted respect.

Junpei came over to slap a hand on Makoto's shoulder, which was steadily becoming their daily ritual, though his smile was softer that usual. "Man, we got lucky with the teachers this year. You should've been here junior year—Ms. Toriumi was nice, but that cake punishment was something else!"

Makoto wasn't sure what this 'cake punishment' entailed, but he liked the sound of it, and his stomach probably wouldn't be against it.

Fuuka scurried over, phone in one hand and nerves in the other. "Junpei-kun, could I talk to you for a minute?"

The jokester looked momentarily confused before donning his usual grin. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"

Her eyes flitted nervously to Makoto, but she continued anyways. "Yukari-chan bought some flowers from the shop she's working at—she was wondering if we were available to go to the hospital today."

Instantly, the mood soured. The tension coming off of the two was almost palpable, and if Makoto hadn't known better he could've sworn that cloud had chosen that specific moment to block the light of the sun. Junpei worked his way through several complex emotions—Makoto supposed this was where the saying 'wears their heart on their sleeve' originated—before settling on a cross between kicked-puppy and pouting child.

"Uh… Yeah, I'm cool with that. How about you?"

Fuuka frowned, eyebrows pulling together again in a way only she seemed capable of. "Yes, I'm going, but…" She didn't seem sure of her footing all of a sudden, shuffling around and letting her eyes wander across the emptying room. "What about Aigis?"

"Well, whaddaya mean? Is she not going?"

Fuuka bit her lip. "She doesn't want to. She—it scares her, I think. I'm not sure."

"Oh." Junpei scratched his head, unsure what to do with that information, before suddenly remembering Makoto was still present. "Sorry about that, dude. We uh, have some friends and—well, how about you come with us?"

Before he could respond, Fuuka blanched. "Junpei-kun? Are you sure that's a good idea? He's not involved…" She trailed off when she realized he was looking at her, and quickly waved her hands. "Oh, I don't mean it like that, you're a very nice person Yuki-kun, it's just…"

Junpei groaned. "C'mon! Not like it's gonna hurt anybody! 'Sides, he probably doesn't have anything else to do. We're his only friends so far! Right?"

Makoto nodded, though he wasn't sure how proud he should be of that fact.

They met up with Yukari at the flower shop, mainly so she could unload the flora on them. "Like I was gonna carry it all by myself. What if I dropped them?" Was her justification. Makoto didn't see anything wrong with it, and volunteered to carry the alstroemeria.

As they made their way to Tatsumi Memorial Hospital (Yukari ended up carrying none of the bouquets), the archery captain explained that she'd only recently started working there, but already had a lot of the flower language down pat. "The thrift bouquet—that's the one Fuuka-chan's carrying—symbolizes sympathy. The white ones are snowdrops; they stand for consolation and hope."

Three bouquets for three people. And apparently, the flowers were coordinated for each patient's situation. It was a touching gesture, though he doubted the recipients would notice the consideration.

Yukari didn't mention what the alstroemeria* stood for. Nobody asked.

Stepping into the lobby shouldn't have been as nostalgic as it felt. He'd probably only been here once or twice, as a child.

But they all felt the same; had the same busy atmosphere, white walls and tiles, nurses scurrying about and visitors shuffling around. It was a secure, familiar environment, stealing the tension from his shoulders.

Fuuka and Junpei walked a little ways off, whispering hurriedly under their breath about something. Yukari gave them a puzzled look before gesturing for him to follow her to the front desk. "Excuse me, I need to ask which room my friend is in…"

Makoto tuned her out, looking back over at his classmates. They seemed to have finished talking, fidgeting and generally trying not to make eye contact with anybody. Though he found their behavior suspicious, he elected not to comment on it.

He kept his gaze on the ceiling as they marched through the halls, a parade of four armed with flowers wrapped in crinkling white paper. Yukari led the way, Junpei right behind her, with Makoto and Fuuka trailing behind. When they finally reached their destination, Junpei took a step forward, giving Yukari a nervous glance.

"Y'think it's okay to just barge in? I mean, she still doesn't remem—"

"Zip it, and open the door." Yukari hissed, glaring daggers at the boy. He complied, leading them into a brightly lit room.

The bed was vacant, but on the chair scooted up next to the window sat a rose-haired young woman, clothed in a loose hospital gown, scratching away with her pencil in what seemed to be a sketchbook. She didn't turn to greet them as they entered, but did let her hand glide to a halt.

"Uh, hey, Chidori-cchi." Junpei greeted nervously, taking a few small steps closer. "It's me, Junpei. I brought some friends this time."

The woman, now dubbed Chidori, tilted her head. "Oh, hello, Junpei-kun. It's nice to see…" She paused when her eyes fell on the flowers, her face lighting up. "Oh, you shouldn't have—thank you very much!" She rose to accept the bouquet of snowdrops, holding them close to her chest and inhaling deeply.

Junpei was grinning like an idiot, rubbing the back of his neck as he responded. "Well uh, Yukari-cchi picked out the flowers, so really you should be thanking her."

Chidori peeked around him, smiling serenely at the other three. "I appreciate it. Now, I think there's a vase in here somewhere…" She set the bouquet on the windowsill for the moment, opening the drawers of the side tables.

Junpei offered his help, and together they found a short glass vase. The snowdrops exchanged the paper wrapping for the new container, and Fuuka filled it with her water bottle.

The windows were open, letting in a mild breeze and stirring the curtains. Chidori ran her fingers across the petals, wearing a small smile. "They have a very unique shape. I think they might be my new favorite!" She looked over at Yukari. "You said they were called snowdrops?"

"Yeah, they are." She gave Junpei a light whack on the shoulder. "If you want, I can send him over with more every now and then." Junpei sputtered, much to the girls' amusement.

There was a sudden lapse in conversation, Chidori looking over at Makoto. "I don't think I've seen you before. It's nice to meet you." She bowed low. "Sorry, I haven't properly introduced myself yet. I'm Yoshino Chidori. I'm suffering from a little amnesia at the moment, but Junpei-kun and his friends have been very supportive of me."

He wondered if it was just a coincidence—meeting someone with amnesia. "Yuki Makoto. It's nice to meet you too."

A few more minutes of conversation ensued, and eventually the four excused themselves so Chidori could rest. Junpei was reluctant to leave, but after some strong words from Yukari he acquiesced.

"We're going to visit Shinjiro-senpai next, right?" Fuuka asked, adjusting the bouquet in her arms. There was a general agreement on everyone's part, and the walking began again.

This time, though, when they reached the door, they opened it to find no one inside.

"Are you kidding me?!" Yukari huffed. "He isn't supposed to be walking around! I'll go get a nurse—you guys look for him!" She was off in the blink of an eye.

Makoto was impressed; she was much faster than he'd thought she would be. Fuuka stammered something about checking the lobby, leaving the flowers on the cot.

Junpei massaged his forehead, muttering several expletives. "I really don't need any excitement right now… Stick with me, alright? You don't know what Senpai looks like, so it'd be useless to split up." Makoto nodded. "But this place is huge! Where could he have wandered off to?!"

"The roof?" It was a long shot, but he vaguely remembered how stifling it could be, lying in the same bed day after day. Fresh air—it would quickly become a craving.

"Uh… Well, I guess it's as good a place to start as any. Let's go."

The duo rushed for the stairs; the elevator didn't occur to them until later.

The roof wasn't deserted, given how nice the day was. Some patients accompanied by nurses were lounging around, enjoying the breeze.

At the far end of the roof, a solitary figure sat up against the fence. His hair was long and messy, skin tan, dark circles under his eyes. He wasn't dressed in a hospital gown, though, so it couldn't be—

"Shinjiro-senpai!" Oh. So he'd been wrong. Junpei dashed over to the brooding man, who quickly put on a scowl.

"Quit makin' such a racket. Some people are tryin' to relax."

"O-Oh, right. Sorry. Wait—no, Senpai you shouldn't be walking around on your own! The doctors said—"

"D'ya think I give a shit about what the doctors said?" Junpei tensed, ready to argue, but the fight seemed to deflate out of the brunet. "Never mind. I know I'm bein' stupid. I just needed to get outta that room for a while." He noticed Makoto, sending a weary glare in his direction. "The hell're you?"

"Uh, Senpai, this is Yuki Makoto-kun. He's a transfer student; just moved here this year."

Makoto dipped his head. "Nice to meet you." How many times had he introduced himself since he'd moved here?

Shinjiro frowned. "Aragaki Shinjiro. Same to you, I guess." Junpei's phone chose this moment to ring, the boy scrambling to dig it out of his pocket.

"Hello? Oh, Fuuka-chan… Yeah, we found him. He was on the roof… Alright. We'll bring him with us... Uh-huh. Okay, see ya." He flipped it close. "Yukari-cchi and Fuuka-chan are waiting for us downstairs. C'mon, Senpai."

On the way down, Junpei explained that Shinjiro stayed in the same dorm as them, and had ended up in the hospital because of some sort of accident. Shinjiro didn't say much of anything, besides grumbling along to Junpei's story, but Makoto got the impression that the older boy didn't like others worrying after him.

Once they'd reached their destination, Yukari gave him a stern lecture, Fuuka setting the bouquet in a newly acquired vase. They asked after his condition, how he was feeling, and then had the door slammed in their faces.

This was apparently a common occurrence, since Yukari seemed to brush it off rather quickly. "Okay. One stop left."

The weird, tense atmosphere made a comeback, leaving Makoto thoroughly out of the loop. The group shambled through the halls, significantly less enthusiastic than they'd been earlier.

He wondered if this was why Aigis hadn't wanted to come—whatever was causing this sudden change in the mood couldn't be good.

Yukari knocked on the door, probably too softly to be heard on the other side, and slowly turned the knob.

The first thing Makoto noticed was the hum of machinery, the blip of the heart monitor, the drip of the IV. One by one, the others stood out of his way, until he was finally able to make out the figure on the bed—

He nearly dropped the flowers.

The curtains were pulled close, dyeing the room gray. Her skin was deathly pale against the sheets, arms thin, bones protruding. Her hair—still that dead color—framed her face like a veil, long lashes and full cheeks giving her the appearance of a child in slumber.

This wasn't an ordinary kind of sleep, though.

Yukari sat down on the bed next to her, stroking her bangs lightly with her fingers, afraid that if she used too much force the fragile form on the bed might break. "Hey, Minako-chan."

Junpei excused himself from the room, pulling the cap over his eyes. Fuuka sat opposite of Yukari, on Minako's other side. "We brought some flowers—they're really pretty. Yukari-chan picked them out, I'm sure you'll like them."

Makoto took that as his cue to walk over, proffering the flowers to Fuuka who repeated the process of locating a vase and filling it.

He hadn't really studied the alstromerias before—he'd been too distracted. Now, though…

The edges were white, frayed in that veined way only seen on flowers. The center of the petals alternated between yellow and pink, brown markings down three of the six. He recalled that Yukari hadn't said what they stood for.

It wasn't that he felt out of place; more like he'd been taken off-guard. He hadn't known what to expect, what she would be like, but…

"Yuki-kun, this is Arisato Minako-chan. She transferred here last year." Yukari explained, padding her eyes dry with her cardigan's sleeve. "This must be kinda weird, seeing someone like this—she's usually so full of energy, so—so…"

Fuuka muffled a sob behind her hands. "I'm sorry, Yukari-chan, I—"

"It's okay, Fuuka. I get it." Yukari slapped on a painful smile, and the shorthaired girl left, waving solemnly as she closed the door.

Yukari cleared her throat. "Um, sorry about today, Yuki-kun. I don't know what Junpei was thinking when he invited you to come with us. You must feel uncomfortable, seeing us like this…" Makoto was about to comment, about to say he didn't mind at all, but she didn't give him time to. "Minako-chan fell into a coma on graduation day. She hasn't woken up since. At first we weren't really worried—we thought she was just tired, but the doctors—" She paused when she noticed some tissues sitting on the side table, and wiped any stray tears away. "…She's not gonna make it. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be telling you this. She's just a stranger to you—I don't know what's…"

"It's fine." He said, unsure how to comfort the poor girl. "It's okay. I understand."

The next few minutes were spent in silence on Makoto's end, Yukari talking to Minako about school, friends, her job…

They exited the room, found Junpei leaning against the wall. "Fuuka-chan went back to the dorm." He explained. Yukari nodded, and if Junpei noticed how her mascara was smudged, or how red her eyes were, he didn't comment on it.

They left the hospital. Makoto returned to the boys' dorm.

* * *

><p>* - Alstroemeria stands for devotion and loyalty (according to my limited research). A fitting bouquet to give to their dearly (nearly) departed leader, no? Also, hurray for my second Persona 2 reference! Which I'm still trying to finish watching, but I procrastinated that in favor of writing this. Also, yay! The longest chapter yet! And with longer chapters come potential mistakes. If you see any grammaticalconventional errors or typos, don't be shy to point them out. I'll think of some incentive later.

In that painfully long five-day interlude between the last chapter this one, I got my first review! Thank you thank you thank you to **darkroydante**! Your input and feedback are greatly appreciated! I hope I was able to deliver a little more 'showing through actions' in this chapter! Of course, in order to know for certain, I'd need reviews. Hint hint.

Just so you all know I'm actually working on the next chapter, I'll give you a little preview:

_While he wasn't particularly against it, someone needed to remind the interior decorator that there were more hues in the color wheel besides blue._


	7. Chapter 5: Aria of the Soul

The sun was setting; painting the cloudless sky a deep tangerine that messed with his eyes. The room was dark, save for the square of light cast onto the desk. The textbook sat open before him, pencil held in his hand.

The air was stifling in here. After a moment or so of pondering, he opened the window. It was warmer now, but it wouldn't be for long. The sea breeze wafted in—Makoto sneezed.

He really should be studying. That test on Friday promised to be at least somewhat difficult. His grades were the only thing keeping him here—without that scholarship, it was back to… Well. He couldn't very well call it home. Iwatodai was his home; this was where he'd been born and raised.

He wasn't sure what he'd been thinking, moving here all of a sudden. And because of a dream! A dream about someone that he'd been told—

That was the mystery though, wasn't it? Arisato Minako. A comatose girl that probably wouldn't be around to see the leaves fall. _Comatose_. It figured. The coincidences were too far-fetched to believe anymore.

She'd wanted him to find her. There was something he had to do here—something that would finally give him answers to all of his questions. First and foremost being...

_What happened that night eleven years ago?_

He'd had a headache since leaving the hospital, and the harsh light was doing nothing to soothe it. A nap was what he needed…

...

…Cold—blessedly so. A familiar, weightless feeling. Wind brushing past him, running along his skin—he was flying. Flying through the dark, he couldn't see a thing. It'd suck if he crashed… Oh. A door.

He wasn't flying anymore.

Makoto opened his eyes, disturbed by how easy the action was. Waking up tended to be one of his least favorite things to do, especially after such a bizarre dream—

Never mind, that explained it. He was still dreaming. No room he'd ever been in looked like this. While he wasn't particularly against it, someone needed to remind the interior decorator that there were more hues in the color wheel besides blue. There was a woman singing in the background, and someone was playing the piano.

The chair felt familiar; he lowered his gaze, watched his hands sink into dyed leather.

The chair from that dream—

"My, but you are an odd one." An older, somewhat curious voice observed. Makoto lifted his head.

The table before him housed a deck of cards, and beyond that was a sofa. Upon it sat the strangest man he'd ever seen—short body, long limbs, long _nose_… Next to the sofa stood a young woman, short platinum hair and cat-like eyes and—was she wearing some sort of uniform? A stewardess, perhaps? A thick tome was cradled in one arm, though she seemed to have no difficulty hefting it.

Past that, though… There was someone else. A young man, with features identical to the stewardess (were they related?), dressed somewhat like a bellboy. And behind him… black. Nothing. He felt as if there should be something there.

"This space functioned as an elevator for our previous guest; and considering the circumstances of your arrival, it has retained this form. Perhaps it might change further into your journey? I am curious to find out." The man gestured widely with one gloved hand. "Welcome to the Velvet Room."

Well. This was… certainly something. He hadn't had such a vivid dream since the one with Minako and the piano. "What is this place?" He frowned. That was a silly question to ask in a dream.

"This place exists between dream and reality; mind and matter. Only those who have forged a contract—or are about to, in your case—may enter it. I am Igor, this room's master."

Dream—contract—Igor… He shouldn't be thinking about this so hard. He could figure it out when he woke up. "Is this related to—to her?"

"If by _her_ you are referring to our previous guest, then yes. Her journey came to a close, but with the power she had gained, she was able to manipulate fate. Hence your arrival here." Igor steepled his fingers underneath his chin, smiling predatorily. "Your journey has already begun. In order for you to continue down this path, however, you will be in need of my services."

There was a flash of light, and a paper appeared on the table, a quill and inkpot alongside it. Makoto reached for it, and was surprised when he could feel the thick, powdery quality of it between his fingers. He typically didn't have control over his senses in dreams.

"That is your contract. Do not fear; all it states is that you shall pursue your path and accept the destination."

'_I chooseth this fate of mine own free will.'_

He found the old style of writing somewhat tacky, but shrugged it off. He retrieved the quill and signed the contract.

Once he'd finished, it vanished in a similar way to how it had appeared. Igor chuckled. "It seems that is all the time we have for now. Do not fret—we shall meet again soon enough." The deformed old man gestured once more, and on the table appeared a glass key. "This is the Velvet Key. It will allow you to enter this place willingly, if you are able to find the door. I look forward to accompanying you on your journey."

The singing faded away, the blues turning to blacks. The chair evaporated, leaving him falling in black once again—

Pain rocketed through the side of his head. He snapped awake, dimly aware of the drool on his sleeve (that was weird—he hadn't drooled since he was a kid), curious why he was on the floor. He sat up, and saw the chair had fallen over.

The sun had set. There was a chill in the air now. Makoto moved to wrap his jacket more tightly around him, and felt weight in his pocket—

The Velvet Key.

So… it hadn't been a dream? That hardly made sense, he'd been sleeping until now—right. 'Between dream and reality; mind and matter.' His life was quickly becoming very confusing.

He was too tired to ponder it much right now; he needed to study, take a shower, maybe eat something, and sleep. Cryptic men and cryptic messages could wait until morning. Hopefully this time, when he went to sleep, he'd dream like a normal person.

And that he did.

* * *

><p>But I <em>liked<em> Belladonna and Nameless! What do you _mean_ they're nowhere to be found in P3?! Anyway, yes, Velvet Room chapter. We all knew it was coming. Damn Igor and his vague exposition-y moments. I wanted this to be longer, but then I realized Igor was operating on a time crunch when he usually has the whole night to work with, so I decided to leave it as is. I'll make up for it with the next chapter (hopefully).

Also, I have a problem! Despite the fact that I've been planning this out for quite some time, I still haven't decided characters for all of the Social Links. It's 2010, so characters from the P3 storyline might not be available any longer. I could always fill the gaps with original characters, but would you all be okay with that? Reviews? Please?

The arcana I'm missing social links for are Empress, Fortune, Death, Temperance, Devil, Tower, Star, and Sun. Empress and Star have been vacated because Mitsuru and Akihiko are off colleging, and though they will appear in this fic and play significant roles, they won't be around nearly as much as they used to be. Bummer, I'm sure.

Who do you want to see Makoto interact with? Should I throw my hands in the air and make up some original characters? Should I have some P1 or P2 cameos? We're pretty much throwing canon out the window at this point, so anything's possible! Send me some feedback! And speaking of feedback, three more reviews! Thankyousomuch, **BloodAndGuts**, **Mayu123**, and **OhtaSuzuke**! I hope I continue to impress!


	8. Chapter 6: Memories of the School

The papers were passed back, Makoto sighing in relief. One hundred percent. His scholarship was safe. A few desks back, Junpei wailed in despair. "C'mon! I even studied for this!"

Some muffled laughter trailed around the classroom, and it was thanks to the contrast of smiling faces against Fuuka's distressed expression that he noticed it in the first place. She sat ahead of him to the left, her test score clearly visible—triple digits. So, what had caused this change in mood? Of course, there was always their catatonic, dying friend to damper their spirits, but it seemed like an unspoken rule not to let that pervade their school life.

He decided to let it be, class dragging ever onward, the traditional clock hung on the wall ticking quietly.

_Tick, tick, tick._

_Tick._

He only realized he'd fallen asleep when the bell rang, dismissing the students for lunch. Fuuka took off like a rocket, the door slamming open as she exited. Given her typically shy disposition, whatever was nagging at her was serious. Junpei's reaction seemed to indicate as much, at least.

"Hey, Fuuka-chan?!" He called, bolting upright in his seat. Makoto made to get out of his chair, though was pushed back down by Junpei's hand on his shoulder. "Uh, lemme handle this. I'll be right back, okay?"

He nodded at his friend's (it was still weird to think of him as such) retreating figure, though only after a moment or so realized he would have to get up anyways—he needed to buy his lunch.

Luckily, the line was relatively short, and he was walking away with his _yakisoba_ bread with plenty of time to spare. As he made his way down the hall, though, something began to nag at him.

The majority of the student body tended to ignore him—after all, he was the latest in a line of cursed transfer students; getting involved wasn't very wise—while a few would track his movements, curious to see if he was being affected. Today, however, there was much more chatter in his wake than usual. He'd never been this observant of others before moving here—he supposed he had his newfound acquaintances to thank for that.

His curiosity was apparently destined to be sated, seeing how he ran into Tomochika as he rounded the corner.

"Oh, Makoto! You look… the same as usual."

He raised a questioning eyebrow. "Any reason I shouldn't be?"

Kenji mimicked the expression. "Wait, seriously? You don't know?" Makoto gestured for him to continue. "There's a rumor going around that Aigis-chan is quitting school."

"Really?" That explained Fuuka's behavior, at least. As well as all of the attention he was receiving in the hall. Fortunately, Kenji liked listening to his own voice, so he continued.

"I dunno why though, all the gossip varies. Some say it's a health complication, others that it's family problems… I mean, it could be anything right? And she _has_ been acting weird ever since school began. But dude, this means that the curse will be coming after you next. Aren't you worried at all?"

He thought about it, long and hard. "Not really."

Kenji made a face. "Dude, you're way too laid-back…" He turned on his heel, shoulders rolling dramatically. "If I were you, I'd be freaking out. See ya later, if you don't go missing or some shit."

Makoto waved him off half-heartedly before returning to the classroom and indulging in his lunch.

He slept through the rest of the day, the bell startling him awake. He turned to greet Junpei as per usual, only to find he wasn't at his desk. Makoto turned his head—Fuuka's bag sat on her chair, though the owner was absent. One of his classmates noticed his searching gaze.

"If you're looking for Junpei-kun, he and Fuuka-chan haven't been back since lunch."

He thanked the student, rose from his chair, and shuffled out.

He wasn't sure what to do; Junpei had been towing him around since the school year began, and on the rare occasion that he wasn't available, Yukari and the other girls would keep him company. He stared down the hall, the walls suddenly feeling tighter.

The air felt too cold in his lungs.

_All he could see was white white white—_

His legs started moving before he could resume thinking.

The door to the roof was ajar, a sliver of sunlight streaming down onto the staircase. He paused to feel the draft ruffle his hair, and heard voices.

"—t stay the same?!"

"—be calm about this—"

"—decision, there is no more reason for—"

"Can't you all just shut up?!" Yukari's voice pierced through the din, tone venomous. "What is your problem, Junpei?! Are you _really_ this selfish? Quit thinking about yourself for one second!"

An exasperated noise followed. "Are you being for real, Yukari-cchi? What the hell did I do this time? Every chance you get, you turn the blame on me! I didn't do anything!"

"Yukari-chan, Junpei-kun, please calm down! We can't be turning on each other like this—"

"Nothing is going to get solved if we pretend like everything is okay!" Yukari spat. "And why are you so persistent about this, Aigis?! This is causing everyone problems, you know that, right?"

"It is not my intention to inconvenience others." The blonde's tone was flat and chilling, bordering on robotic. "My being here is not affecting the current situation one way or another. Would it not be more advantageous if I returned to Yakushima for indefinite storage?"

"But you've made so many friends here, Aigis! Aren't you benefitting from so much interaction? That was the reason you first—"

"The reason I first attended Gekkoukan High no longer exists."

Yukari scoffed. "Y'mean she's dying right now."

"Shut up!" Junpei shouted, a sound akin to a stomp accompanying his outburst. "Don't you dare talk like that! Senpai is doing her best to look for a way to help, right? There's still hope—"

"Why do you always act like such a kid?! You heard it from the doctors! She's going to die, and there's nothing we can do about it! Quit being so immature and face facts!"

He heard sobbing; presumably Fuuka.

"You're a bitch, y'know that?! We're her best friends, and you're just gonna throw her under the bus like that?! Do you really think Mi-cchi would've appreciated that?"

"She's as good as dead, Junpei!"

"No, she's not!"

Makoto hadn't realized it, but he'd leaned closer and closer to the exit as the argument escalated. The door creaked open wider, drawing the attention of the four seniors. Makoto prepared for a very thorough dressing-down from the archery captain.

Instead, the brunette stormed past him and down the stairs. As she passed by, he noticed her quivering lip and red-rimmed eyes.

He'd obviously walked in at the worst possible time.

Aigis sat motionlessly on the stone bench, head turned away. Junpei was desperately trying to calm Fuuka down, though he was meeting with little success. Makoto cleared his throat.

"Sorry."

Junpei opened his mouth to say something, but shook his head, cap hiding his eyes. "Nah. You're… it's okay. Just go."

Makoto's eyes widened in surprise—he hadn't heard Junpei use that tone before. He complied, however, turning and walking back down the stairway.

Back inside, he found Yukari sitting against the wall, her sleeve covering her eyes.

Makoto took a step towards her—

"Please don't." Judging by her shaky voice, she was struggling vainly to fight back tears. "I'm not here. Pretend you didn't see me. I'll leave before they come back down."

He tilted his head questioningly. "Why—"

"I was being a real jerk up there," Yukari breathed, throat tight, "yelling those kinds of things. Minako, she—she was his best friend, you know? She was—to all of us…"

He stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. "Doesn't he get it? Of course I don't want her to die, but I—I'm not strong enough to live like that, hoping that she'll pull some miracle again and… God, why did things have to end up like this?"

He sighed—he had no idea what to say or do in this situation—and turned to leave.

"Hey." He paused. "Thanks for—well, being you, I guess. You're quiet; you don't make a fuss about anything." She looked up, eyes bright with an unspoken threat. "You don't talk much or spread rumors. Right?"

"Right."

Makoto returned to the dorm.

* * *

><p><em>SURPRISE, BITCH.<em>

Ahahaha, yes I am indeed still working on this. Shocking, no? It's been... a whopping two months since I've updated this. I have my excuses ready, the list is right here, ahem-...winter break ended, meaning school started, and then life was happening, and then writer's block hit me upside the head, and then I nabbed a fantastic beta reader/editor, whose services I received with this chapter. So, my thanks to **windyroses**! You'll all become familiar with that name, since she'll be providing her scrutiny for the rest of this fic (hopefully, if I don't chase her away). With all that noise out of the way, time for reflections!

Wow, 13 reviews! Obviously there are too many people to mention at this point without sounding redundant, but I want all of you to know that your feedback and comments are very valuable to me, and are a huge motivation boost, contrary to what you may believe! I've secured a few more social links; at this point I only have four or so to fill, and with Windy's help that will be manageable, but thank you all for your suggestions concerning it! Moving onto this chapter, things got... a little intense? Our lovely SEES members' relationship is definitely being tested with Aigis' sudden decision, which should be familiar to you all who've played the Answer. Yes, I did say that this would be an alternate version of the Answer, so there will be similarities such as this, but you've all probably noted the differences by now. I know I've said this before, but this time for sure, the plot ball is definitely going to start rolling. I understand that you're all probably antsy for some Shadow/Persona action, and trust me there is going to be a fair amount of it, I just want to make sure I have a firm grasp of everyone's voice before the figurative shit hits the fan. BUT TRUST ME, IT'S COMING.

As proof that things will be happening shortly, and that I'm working on the next chapter, here's a preview!:

_The door at the top swung open soundlessly before he could reach it, revealing a circular room with countless doors. It was so large it could pass as a ballroom, and had the same ethereal lighting as the space previous. In the center of the chamber, there was an image on the ground, in shimmering obsidian. It depicted a snake, and below it were the words:_

_MEMENTO MORI_

_Latin, if he remembered correctly; his years of independent study were finally proving useful. Something along the lines of 'remember your death.'_

_...Well, that was cheery._


	9. Chapter 7: The Voice Someone Calls

The calendar read April 27th, 2010.

_Tick, tick, tick._

_Tick._

_Tock._

Makoto was catching up on his studying when Coffin Hour hit. He lifted his head, somewhat surprised. Hadn't it ended earlier that year…?

Shrugging, he stowed the textbook away—there was no way he'd be able to read in this light—and wondered whether or not he should just head to bed.

He peered out the window, the golden moon like a swollen eye hanging in the emerald sky. He drew away, feeling strangely light-headed. Had he not eaten enough?

No, that wasn't it. It felt as if—as if something was _moving around_ in his head. He didn't know whether the entity was malignant or benign, but it was definitely foreign. This had never happened before.

(Time to go!)

(Must reach the dorm!)

(_Hurry!_)

Makoto heeded the voices' instruction, pulling on his shoes and exiting his room.

His loafers slapped the pavement as the voices led him through the blood-covered streets of Iwatodai. He passed numerous caskets, occasionally hearing the odd rustling from the alleyways; no doubt the slimy black things he'd always spot from his bedroom window. He kept his eyes focused forward, avoiding the scarlet puddles when possible, cringing from the stench when it wasn't.

Coffin Hour, as he'd dubbed it, had ceased to amaze him a long time ago. He wasn't quite sure when it started—things got fuzzy the further back he tried to remember—but he was usually at home before midnight, so it had never caused him any inconvenience.

What boggled his mind was that near the end of January, it had suddenly stopped. While it was a relief that he no longer had to deal with the oppressive atmosphere and possibly aggressive blobs that patrolled the streets, it also meant that another hour of sleep was gone. Its disappearance was bittersweet for him, to say the least.

Why had it disappeared in January? Why had it returned?

Perhaps the better question would be what it was in the first place.

Eventually, his pace slowed, and he found himself standing outside the co-ed Iwatodai dorm. If he remembered correctly, Junpei and the others lived here. Despite him never having visited, there was a somewhat nostalgic feeling accompanying the sight. Taking the steps two at a time, he let his hand wrap around the cool metal knob.

As the door opened, a blinding white light seeped out, forcing Makoto to shield his eyes with a hand. The air suddenly grew crisp, biting at his lungs. He took a step forward, then another.

When his eyes had finally adjusted, he was met with a large marble foyer. The space seemed to be lit from every corner, and yet there was no glare. There were no fixtures to explain the puzzling phenomenon, but Makoto decided that that was probably the least unnatural thing about this place.

He'd never been here before, but this was definitely not what the Iwatodai dorm was supposed to look like. Did the Coffin Hour have some sort of effect on it…?

In front of him was a grand staircase, its railings gleaming silver. The massive white doors at the top of the stairs were ajar, the room beyond hidden by shadow.

His footsteps echoed ominously in the empty space as he approached, noting how weightless he seemed to feel in the foyer despite the Coffin Hour's overbearing nature. One hand slid along the railing's icy surface as he climbed the steps, a feeling of anticipation welling in his gut. Perhaps here, he would get some answers…

The door at the top swung open soundlessly before he could reach it, revealing a circular room with countless doors. It was so large it could pass as a ballroom, and had the same ethereal lighting as the space previous. In the center of the chamber, there was an image on the ground, in shimmering obsidian. It depicted a snake, and below it were the words:

MEMENTO MORI

Latin, if he remembered correctly; his years of independent study were finally proving useful. Something along the lines of 'remember your death.'

…Well, that was cheery.

He examined the nearest door, noting the intricate silver-laid design and lack of a doorknob. Given the immense size and no doubt considerable weight, how was one to open it? He approached it slowly, steps resounding loudly despite his best efforts to stay quiet. Once in front of it, he knocked—better to err on the side of courtesy. Surprisingly, the door sounded hollow. Perhaps it was a fake? He knocked again. No response.

Which way was it to open? He gave a gentle push, met with resistance. He tried again, with a little more force, and was rewarded with a sound akin to the groan of metal. He set his shoulder against the bitterly cold surface, heaving—

"—_ommy—!"_

"—_ook, Mi—"_

"—_al Seal—"_

"—_elp me—!"_

Makoto fell backwards, panting. Sweat beaded his brow, arms trembling as he struggled to stabilize himself. He suddenly felt incredibly exhausted, body leaden with fatigue.

What in the world…? He stood shakily, somewhat tempted to try again—

A gurgling noise from behind caught his attention. Adrenaline already burning his veins, he turned to see—

…Water floating in the air?

Which, obeying normal physics, wouldn't make any sense. But it made even _less_ sense considering that all water turned to blood during the Coffin Hour. So… it was doubly impossible?

Makoto took a step towards it, noticing how his reflection was mirrored perfectly despite the constant rippling of the liquid. It eventually evened out until it had the consistency of glass, hovering a few feet in front of him. His reflection stared back, looking more apathetic than intrigued, in spite of his predicament.

A minute or so passed by, Makoto still staring at the water, his reflection still staring at him.

That is, until its eyes turned from silver to gold.

Makoto flinched, unnerved by the irritated expression his doppelgänger wore.

"_Not yet._" The double said, lowering his head. His hair cast shadows over his face, eyes glowing ominously. "_Not yet._"

"…Okay." Interpreting the cryptic words as a suggestion to leave, Makoto spun on his heel and exited the chamber.

The foyer had dimmed considerably, the interior dyed gray by the lack of light. He squinted, blinked a few times—he could've sworn he saw movement at the corner of his eye, but it was probably—hopefully—just his eyes playing tricks on him.

(Almost time!)

(Have to be ready!)

He lifted a hand to his head, mildly annoyed. The weird voices had been whispering at a fervent pace since he'd entered the dorm, and while he'd been able to ignore them until now, he was beginning to seriously worry after his mental health. His move to Iwatodai had so far only gifted him strangely realistic dreams, a weird key that didn't fit into any lock he'd tried so far, and some very depressed friends.

That and a dying twin sister, but thinking about that didn't do much to improve his mood.

That was going to be one hell of a discussion once Junpei and the others found out—and they _would_ find out, something in his gut told him so. Though under the current circumstances, he wasn't sure how things were going to play out from here.

A sudden chill sent a shudder down his spine; his breath was faintly visible when he exhaled, an abrupt reminder of just how cold the space was. He hurried down the stairs as carefully as his tired, numb legs could carry him, exited the foyer, and returned to the boys' dorm.

The calendar read April 28th, 2010.

Needless to say, he could hardly keep his eyes open during class. He'd caught a quick glimpse of himself in the mirror that morning—he looked as though he'd risen from a grave, rather than a bed. The moment he'd sat down in his chair, he was out cold. Makoto didn't have to worry about being caught; either Ms. Kawazu sympathized with sleep-deprived teenagers or she'd never noticed him. He was very grateful for it.

The lunch bell—rather, his stomach—managed to rouse him, and for the first time he noticed Junpei and Fuuka's incredibly unusual behavior.

Junpei was antsy; well, antsier than usual. While he wasn't exactly wearing a smile, there was a ghost of a smirk on his face, his eyes shining with conviction despite the bags underneath them, his leg bouncing underneath his desk. Fuuka was fidgeting more than usual, picking at her shirtsleeve or twirling the ends of her hair between her fingers. Any of the frustration from their altercation earlier that week had vanished.

Junpei stood presently, bounding over to Fuuka with a barely restrained energy. "So? Did Yukari-cchi call Senpai?"

"Yes, she did—I don't think she's gotten a response yet, because she hasn't texted me—"

"Man, can you believe this? I mean, I have a bad feeling but I'm also looking forward to it. I think I'm still in shock—" He broke off when he noticed Makoto approaching, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Oh, Makoto-kun! Sorry to leave you out like that. How long have you been standing there? Aren't you gonna go get your lunch?"

A small noise escaped him. "Oh. Right." Food was tied with sleep on his list of priorities—he was startled he'd forgotten about it. He quickly turned to leave, though just as he was walking out the door he heard the two resume their conversation in hushed tones.

Perhaps it would be better to eat lunch on the roof today.

It was cloudy, the breeze carrying a slight chill. While the weather was still mild, it was enough to warrant a light jacket. Makoto lifted his head as he stepped outside, sprinkles of sunlight dancing across his face. He inhaled deeply.

Aigis was sitting on the bench, head bowed. Makoto walked over, lunch in hand, and sat beside her. The blonde tensed, but quickly relaxed. "Good day, Makoto-san."

He took his first bite of melon bread. "Same to you." The plastic wrapping wrinkled noisily in his hands. He wiped a few crumbs off his face, leaned back.

"Do you like it up here?"

"It's easier to breathe."

"I see…" She clasped her hands in her lap, and upon closer inspection, he noticed that her gloves were oddly thick at the ends of her fingers. Were they of poor make? Handmade?

How large were her fingers?

"Makoto-san, do you remember when we first met?"

He had to think for a moment, but then recalled their encounter at the school gates. "Yeah."

"What did you… never mind." She shook her head once. "I'm sure you have heard I am leaving this school soon."

"Yeah."

"Please take care of Fuuka-san and the others in my place. They are… very precious to me."

A sudden thought came to him. "Were you close with Minako-san?"

She went rigid. He continued to eat. The minutes ticked by, clouds parting to reveal the sun. It warmed his back pleasantly.

This would be a good place to take a nap…

"Yes." Her voice trembled with an emotion that seemed to fill the air around them. Her shoulders quaked. Makoto nodded. He hadn't thought it would be so hard for her to say; he felt as if he should repay it in some way—

"Thanks." He said. Aigis turned her head to him, confusion evident in her eyes. "For being her friend."

"Why would you…?" She began as the bell rang. Makoto stood, dusted off his pants, and went back to class. Aigis stared at his back, slack-jawed.

_Tick, tick, tick._

_Tick._

* * *

><p>Happy March 5th! :'D<p>

To celebrate, I'll be uploading today! Woo hoo!  
>So after the last chapter, I was able to get this one out disturbingly fast. I blame caffeine. So, if there are any errors, you know why. Moving along...<p>

Yes, Makoto calls the Dark Hour 'Coffin Hour.' SEES' name for it is well and dandy, but not everyone would think of the same name. And as for the text in the parentheses... I'll leave that ambiguous for now, though it should be... kind of obvious? Also, I finally referenced another topic from the summary! While I didn't like the Abyss of Time's... set-up, I suppose, I will be using the dorm as the new location for the 'dungeon.' Oh, and the floating water and mention of gold eyes? Don't even worry about it. All will be explained in the next chapter.

If you noticed that I suddenly listed the date, that is because it is plot significant. Every time an important date (cough full moons cough hack wheeze) comes around, the date will be listed. Besides that, though, I'll be leaving it dubious. Planning out every single day like in the game is too research-intensive, and frankly I'm just too lazy to pull that off. Hm... I think that's really all I have to say on this chapter.

On a side note, if any of you haven't yet already, I highly recommend diving deeper into the Shin Megami Tensei franchise. The Persona series is wonderful, yes, _but have you seen Nocturne? _The main reason I'm bringing this up is that I finished watching the Digital Devil Saga series and... feels. In fact, in the unforeseeable future, I might upload drabbles or more dedicated fics revolving around one of the other series. Oh, and I have a preview for the next chapter!:

_The door at the top of the staircase was closed. Interest piqued, he walked closer to investigate it. It didn't seem tampered with, and there was no hole for a key, so it probably wasn't locked. He wrapped his already cold hand around the handle, and pulled—_

_"—wait a minute! The door's opening!"_

_He froze._


End file.
